


Where the Stars are Strange

by Plodder



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Dimension Obi-Wan Kenobi, Confused Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dimension Travel, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Canon Divergence after Tython, More like the breaking of Force Bonds, Poor Din Djarin, Poor Obi-Wan Kenobi, Probably Glacial, Slow Burn, That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-24 08:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30069222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plodder/pseuds/Plodder
Summary: Din's week goes from bad to worse after Grogu manages to use the Seeing Stone on Tython to pull a Jedi General out of thin air.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Din Djarin/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 43
Kudos: 251





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my computer for months and I couldn't take it anymore, so I decided to post it.

Din Djarin had seen and done a lot of weird things since taking in Grogu, but this was by far the strangest. He kept thinking things would settle down into some kind of new normal, but they just didn’t. Today, Grogu had made a man appear out of thin air.

He was an odd sort of man, wearing an unusual combination of dusty, beige linen, black under suit, and beat-up white armor. The man, seemingly startled by his new surroundings, had looked around wide-eyed, contorted his face into a twisted grimace of pain, and abruptly passed out beside the seeing stone.

“Hey buddy, is this a Jedi?” Din asked, heading over to the stone. Grogu had stopped his mediation, dropped whatever shield he’d put up, and cocked his head, grinning.

“Gah!” was his reply, followed by a self-satisfied grin. That seemed like a ‘yes’.

Din picked up Grogu from the stone and set him down in the grass beside the fallen man. The baby toddled over to him and touched the Jedi’s face, cooing softly and smoothing his hair with his little clawed hand. The kid almost seemed to be humming to himself or to the Jedi. Maybe it was some kind of communication?

While Grogu carried on, fascinated and seemingly enamored by his Jedi, Din took a moment to study the man. He was kind of medium sized, not young or old, with reddish hair and beard, and even features. He didn’t look all that impressive or dangerous, not like the lady Jedi they’d met. He also didn’t seem to be waking up anytime soon, which was unfortunate, as an Imperial ship had just entered the atmosphere above them. Time to run.

Din couldn’t just leave Grogu’s Jedi. It wasn’t the man’s fault that he’d been materialized or something, and the Jedi had seemed confused and hurt by the whole thing. Din scooped up Grogu, who let out an indignant squawk, and put him in his sling even as the kid kept reaching towards his Jedi.

“We got to go, buddy,” Din told Grogu, while shaking the Jedi, who was still out cold. “Wake up, pal, come on, wake up,” Din muttered, to no effect. The Jedi was waxy pale and beaded with sweat. His eyelids didn’t so much as flutter.

Din grabbed the Jedi under his armpits and activated his jetpack, knowing full well his back was going to hurt after this. He had to get Grogu to safety and he couldn’t leave Grogu’s Jedi now that they’d found him. Through some strength he didn’t know he had, he managed to fly all three of them back to the Razor Crest in a generally intact state, throw the kid and Jedi onto the cot in the hold, and take off. By some stroke of luck, they hadn’t been noticed yet.

Din fumbled through the ship’s log, looking for a place to jump to. Tatooine, that would do. They could head to Mos Pelgo where he was sure the villagers and the Marshall would welcome him back after that krayt dragon episode. The backwater town wasn’t even on the maps, so they’d hopefully be unnoticed there. He needed a place to hide for a while with Grogu and his Jedi so he could figure out what to do next. The Jedi seemed sick or something, so he probably wouldn’t be able to train Grogu right away and Din needed a chance to figure out what to do about the fact that they were still being hunted.

Din made the jump into hyperspace and checked on his passengers. The Jedi was still unconscious on the cot with Grogu curled up in the crook of his arm. Noticing Din, Grogu looked up and cooed happily, seemingly content. Seeing as his charges were safe, Din climbed back into the cockpit and leaned back in his seat, dozing a little until he heard a sudden commotion in the hold.

Climbing back down the ladder, the first thing that he noticed was that Grogu’s Jedi was awake and was half crouched in the corner in a defensive position, wielding a wrench that he’d left out. Din felt a wave of relief when he realized the weapons cabinet was locked. That feeling of relief ended when he got a good look at the Jedi.

The Jedi’s eyes were wide with pupils so dilated that Din could just barely make out a rim of blue green. There was a look on his face that was strangely feral, almost predatory, teeth slightly barred, calculating an attack. Din wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d started growling.

Din remembered that these wizards were ancient enemies of the Mandolorians and strongly regretted not restraining him. Din also couldn’t hurt Grogu’s Jedi, the kid would never forgive him. Speaking of Grogu, the little guy was crawling cautiously across the floor, trying to approach his Jedi, cooing softly.

Din backed away from the Jedi and put his hands up. He needed to diffuse the situation. “Hey, pal. I’m not going to hurt you.” With this, the Jedi seemed to calm a little, still wary and watchful, eyes flitting about the ship's hold. 

“Who are you? Are you from Death Watch? Why have you abducted me and this youngling?” The Jedi asked, pointing his wrench towards Grogu. He had the poshest Core accent Din had heard in a long time.

“Um, I didn’t abduct you. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

The Jedi crossed his arms about his chest, still clutching the wrench, and now just looking angry. “Then you had best get started. I’m a General of the Galactic Army of the Republic and a Jedi High Council Member. My presence is needed in the field. You had best believe that someone will come looking for me.”

“What war are you fighting?” Din asked, confused. He’d hadn’t heard anyone mention the GAR in a long time. Where had Grogu pulled this guy from?

“Have you been lost in Wild Space or had your brains addled? The Clone Wars. I don’t have time for this. If you didn’t abduct me, I need you to get me back to my men. It is a matter of urgency,” the Jedi replied, pushing an errant strand of hair off his forehead.

“I hate to break it to you, but the Clone Wars have been over for 27 years. It’s 9 ABY and I have no idea how you got here. ”

The wild, feral look was back, this time mixed with utter confusion. “ABY? I don’t understand. What have you done? Are you some kind of Sith?” The guy crouched down again like he was about to spring. Din had no idea what a Sith was and was at a loss for words. If the Jedi attacked him, he’d have to fight back and Grogu wouldn’t like it.

The Jedi was visibly shaking. “Where is Cody? Where are the others? Why can’t I feel them? I can’t feel anyone,” the Jedi muttered, increasingly agitated, lines of pain forming on his face.

Din did the only sane thing he could think of and shot the Jedi with a tranquilizer dart. His eyes grew even wider, and he slumped down to the floor in a boneless heap. Grogu squawked and toddled over to his Jedi, ears drooping.

“He’ll be ok, buddy. He’s a little confused.” Din wished the nice lady Jedi were there to help. She’d probably know what to do and could get an explanation from Grogu. He wished he had a way to contact her.

Din stood over the prone form of the Jedi, noticing that an area on his right side was turning curiously red and wet. Of course Grogu’s Jedi was injured, as things weren’t difficult enough already. Din didn’t think he’d hurt the guy, so it must have happened wherever he came from. Grogu’s squawking grew even more insistent.

“I see it, buddy. He’s hurt. I’ll help your friend,” Din said, once again hoisting the Jedi up by the armpits and hefting him onto the cot. As Din removed his armor, he noticed that his armor had some kind of strange insignia on it. The Jedi’s clothes involved these long pieces of linen tucked into a belt over more linen. Every time he pulled one piece of cloth off the guy; another one was beneath. Frustrated and noticing the puddle blood pooling on the cot, Din got out his knife and started cutting and ripping the whole mess of it off of him. He’d could find the Jedi a new shirt later.

What was underneath all those layers was kind of surprising. The parts of his body not exposed to solar radiation were very pale and freckled. He was both leaner and stronger looking than Din had expected. He hadn’t seen many people with hair that color- he wasn’t even sure what to call it. It was interesting.

Din felt the blood rushing to his face. He couldn’t look at Grogu’s Jedi that way, and the guy was injured. He needed to focus on that. Stop the bleeding.

There was a deep gash along the right side of his ribs, extending from almost his armpit to the upper part of his belly. Din gently cleansed the wound with water and wiped the blood off the Jedi’s pale skin, then rustled through his med supplies and found an ancient bacta pad, hoping that would help. There had to be some healer or medic who could look at him on Mos Pelgo. Din pulled out a hypospray containing a strong pain reliever, which combined with the tranquilizer, would keep a bantha down for a while. He covered the Jedi with a blanket after remembering to cuff his wrists this time and put the wrench away.

Down at his feet, Grogu continued to whimper and pull at Din’s pant leg, arms raised in the air. He picked up the kid and patted his head, but the baby wanted nothing to do with him. Grogu was still reaching for his Jedi. Din felt an odd emotion come over him. It felt a little like grief. He pushed that aside.

“He needs to rest right now. He’s hurt and sick. We’ll figure this out once he’s slept a while,” Din tried to reassure Grogu, setting him in his hammock above the cot. Grogu frowned a little and burbled a soft sound.

Catastrophe at least partially averted, Din returned to the cockpit. This whole thing was getting messier and messier. It had sounded so simple when the Armorer had told him what to do with his foundling, but now they had a confused and injured Jedi who probably wanted to kill him. Din wished Kuiil was still alive. He’d probably what to do.

A while later, he entered Tatooine’s atmosphere and was able to navigate to the sands outside of Mos Pelgo. The twin suns were setting, but there was still light. He scooped up a wiggling, angry Grogu, put him in his sling, and made for the tavern. The Weequay bartender was there and gave him a nod. Din found the Marshall sitting at a table in the corner, sipping his drink. The place was otherwise empty except for the dust motes catching the last light of the suns.

“Hey Mando, you old Krayt-killer, hat brings you back here?” Vanth asked, brow raised.

“I have a bit of a problem. Can you help me with it?”

He shrugged, looking bored. “I can try. What kind of problem?”

“It’s complicated,” Din replied. He wasn’t sure where to even start trying to explain. “Can you come out to the Razor Crest? It’s not very far away.”

“Not much else going on around here,” the Marshal said, looking around the empty tavern. He threw back his drink and followed Din out the door. On the way to the ship, Din tried to explain his quest and what generally had happened at least as best as he could.

“You’re saying this guy appeared out of nowhere?” Vanth asked.

“Yeah, he just appeared. Have you ever seen a Jedi?”

“No, but I’ve lived my whole life on this dusty rock. Doubt a Jedi would have a reason to come out here.”

“He said he was a Jedi. I’ve seen one and she was different,” Din said, thinking of her laser swords. This one didn’t seem to have any of those. “He says he was fighting in the Clone Wars.”

Vanth turned to him and gave him a skeptical glance. “The Clone Wars? This is some strange stuff, my friend.”

They boarded the Razor Crest. Din went first, tranquilizer darts and blaster ready, but the Jedi was still unconscious.

“He just looks like any other guy,” the Marshall said, studying the man. Din picked up a piece of the armor and showed it to him. “He was wearing this. Do you recognize this symbol?”

“I’ve seen it before. Pre-Empire if my memory serves me right. I can look it up,” He put the piece of armor in his pocket and looked down at the man again. “Your friend doesn’t look so good,” Vanth said.

The Jedi was grey pale and the wound looked like it was still bleeding. It probably needed more than an expired bacta pad. “Do you know someone that can help him?”

Grogu started to scream as he reached for the Jedi again. “No buddy, you can’t heal him. It made you sick the last time.” Din hated seeing Grogu all lifeless and worn after he did whatever wizardry he did. He needed training before he started that up again. Grogu grunted and pouted.

“There’s someone I can ask. Let’s take him to my house; I’ve got plenty of room. You have a sled or something?”

The loaded up the Jedi and dragged him to the Marshall’s house, which thankfully wasn’t far. He set up a cot in his spare room and left to get help. Din sat on the floor in the corner of the room, glad for a moment to rest. As he dozed for a moment, he saw the Jedi stir. Din scrambled to get up to standing, setting Grogu on the floor.

“Oh, its you again,” the Jedi said, wincing as he sat up. He grabbed at his side as the little color he had rushed out of his face. “I was hoping I would wake up and you would be gone.”

Well, Din couldn’t blame him. “Be careful! You’re hurt,” Din said, approaching him cautiously. “We’re getting a healer.”

“You’re a Bounty Hunter?” The Jedi asked him. He seemed calmer this time around or was just exhausted. The skin beneath his eyes was purple shadowed and sunken.

“Yes.”

“Were you sent to capture me?”

“No. I took Grogu to the seeing stone on Tython so he could call for a Jedi. He’s a foundling. I must take him to one of his kind. He did some kind of magic, and you appeared.”

The Jedi turned his head into a quizzical tilt. “Who is Grogu?”

That was weird, the other Jedi had seemed to know Grogu. Grogu was currently cooing vigorously and trying to pull himself up on the cot. “That’s Grogu.”

The Jedi reached over and picked up the child and gave him the same sad, fond look the lady Jedi had given him. Grogu reached up and touched the Jedi’s face with an insightful “Goooah.”

The two of them studied each other intently for a few moments. The Jedi’s face folded into that look of despair again. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. “He says I’m from another… I’m not sure I understand- another Possibility? He seems to know me, know my name even, but I’ve never met him,” the Jedi murmured, looking bereft. “Terrible things happened to this little one. It hurts.”

Din grimaced, knowing this was the truth but hating it. “I know. I’m trying to help him.”

The Jedi rubbed at his beard, lost in thought, while Grogu cuddled up against him. “None of this makes sense. What is ABY? You said before that it was the year 9 ABY.”

Din thought for a moment. “After the Battle of Yavin.”

“What was the Battle of Yavin?”

“When the Rebels defeated the Empire?”

“Empire?” The Jedi was massaging his temples, looking increasingly gray. Grogu seemed to be trying to tell the Jedi something again, but that was only increasing the Jedi’s distress. “Why can’t I feel any other Jedi? Where are they? All the bonds gone… where are they…” he was muttering now, his whole body shaking, hectic spots of color showing up on his cheeks.

Grogu was whimpering, ears drooping. Din remembered what the lady Jedi Ahsoka Tano had told him ‘The Jedi Order died out a long time ago.’ It probably wasn’t the best time to tell him that.

Din was at a loss as far as what to do next, but thankfully the Marshall returned with a plump, elderly human woman carrying a bag of supplies. She bustled over to the cot and took a good look at her patient, hands on her hips. “What have you two done to him?”

“Nothing. I found him like this,” Din informed her.

She shook her braided head and frowned. The Jedi was barely conscious, eyes glassy and half opened. “It’s alright, we’ll get you taken care of,” the woman crooned. “Let’s move this little fellow out of the way,” she said, handing an indignant, squealing Grogu to Din.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, at your service ma’am,” the Jedi whispered, voice dry and cracked.

“When’d he last have any water?”

Din shrugged. That was a good question.

“He’s as dry as tumble weed,” she said, frowning. “Let’s take a look at this wound.”

“Ooh you did a number on yourself, but I can fix it up,” she said. She gave the Jedi some fluids and what looked like an antibiotic and proceeded to wash and repair the wound. They didn’t have bacta out here, so things had to be done the old-fashioned way. Aside from the pained grimace on his face, the Jedi kept still and silent through the ordeal, even though it must have hurt. At the end, he seemed to fade into unconsciousness again, but looked a lot more peaceful this time.

“He’ll be all right. Make sure he drinks water. He’s from a Core planet, not a place like this. If you want to bring your bounties in alive, be more careful next time,” she admonished.

“He’s not a bounty,” Din said.

She gave him a suspicious look. “Well whatever he is, he doesn’t belong out here,” she said as she left. She was definitely right about that.

“I’ll go look up this symbol. And his name,” Cobb said. “Come out and feed the kid. There’s nowhere he can go.”

They went out to the living area, Din fed Grogu a ration bar, and tucked him to sleep on the couch. Exhausted, Din dozed while the Marshal did some research. Vanth had an ancient console and was perusing the holoweb. A while later, he came up with some results.

“The symbol’s definitely Jedi Order. There is a mention of a Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi in the New Republic Propaganda. All it says is that he died on the first Deathstar, helping the rebellion.”

If Din had thought things were weird before, they just got weirder. “So I have a dead Jedi General.”

Vanth ran his hand through his hair thoughtfully. “That fella is not dead. I saw him bleed.”

“I know. I don’t know what to do about him,” Din mused.

“What to do about whom?” a posh voice asked. Din turned to see the Jedi coming out of the bedroom with a tatty blanket wrapped around his otherwise bare chest. “If it’s me you’re talking about, I would like a shirt if one could be procured.”

He looked remarkably better, but his eyes were still shadowed. Vanth gave Din a sidelong look and went presumably to find the Jedi something to wear, returning with a faded blue garment that the Jedi shrugged on. Din settled Grogu, who continued to sleep, and took a seat at the table in the center of the room.

Dressed, the Jedi joined them at the table. “Now that we’ve established that you’re not going to kill me and I have no current plans to kill you, could you start from the beginning and kindly explain what is going on?” the Jedi asked.

“I’ll get some spotchka,” Cobb said, getting up and pouring them a few drinks and sitting back down. Din mused for a moment on the ‘I have no current plans to kill you.’ He hoped it was hyperbole.

“Don’t all talk at once,” the Jedi said tartly.

“What do you remember?” Din asked.

“I was in the process of freeing a village of Twi’leks on Ryloth from a droid commander. Then I was on your ship. Nothing else.”

“I needed to find a Jedi to train Grogu. He is a foundling. Grogu made you appear by that seeing stone. He was supposed to use the Stone to call for a Jedi. You showed up,” Din informed him.

“Could we return to this stone? Perhaps I could find my way back?” the Jedi said.

“Not right now, the Imperials showed up. They’re looking for us. They want Grogu.”

The Jedi took a hefty sip of his drink. “Imperials? I thought that you said the Empire was defeated.”

“It was but there are still Imperial factions, especially out here. The New Republic is spread pretty thin in the Outer Rim,” Vanth informed him.

“So, let me get this straight. The Clone wars ended with the Empire taking over the galaxy? Who led this Empire?”

“Emperor Palpatine. He’s dead now,” Vanth replied.

The Jedi looked taken aback and set his drink down with a clatter. “Sheev Palpatine?”

“You know the guy?” Vanth asked, then took a gulp of his own drink.

“I thought that I did,” the Jedi said, scratching his beard. “He was Chancellor when… when I left. Why do they want Grogu?”

“For some kind of experiment.” Din shuddered when he thought of Grogu strapped to that examination table.

“And where are the other Jedi? Why was it so hard to find one? Couldn’t you contact the Temple on Coruscant?” The Jedi’s blue stare was intense, but not unkind.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t told about any Temple to contact,” Din said, not liking where this conversation was going.

“Why, I wonder?” The Jedi was making that pained, thinking face again. “It feels like everyone is gone. I can’t feel anyone.” Any color that he’d had in his face was gone.

Din was not enjoying hurting the guy, but he needed to tell him what he knew. “I was told the Order died off. I don’t know why.”

“Died off? There’s no one left?” The Jedi asked, nearly radiating anguish.

“Very few, I think. You could ask Grogu?” Din said, looking over at the child who was still sleeping on the couch.

“He’s very young for his species. Don’t wake him up,” the Jedi said softly, face grey and wan. He abruptly got up from the table and walked out the front door. Din got up from the table to follow him, but the Marshall grabbed his arm. “Let him go. He’s all shook up.”

“Grogu needs him.” He couldn’t lose another Jedi, not when there were so few.

“There’s nowhere for him to run to. He’s not going to make it very far anyway. He looks like he’s about to pass out,” Vanth said with a grimace.

Din waited for a while, but the Jedi didn’t return. As the minutes ticked by, he grew more anxious, so he went outside to look for him. The Jedi wasn’t very far away, just like the Marshal had said. He was around the back of the house, sitting against the wall, watching the stars. The air was thin and brisk. He looked small and infinitely alone against the vastness of the horizon. Din noticed that he wasn’t wearing any boots.

“You should come inside. It’s cold out here,” Din told him.

“I’ve been here before, to Tatooine, at the beginning. Now everything is gone,” the Jedi murmured, not making any effort to move. “What’s your name?”

“Din.”

“You’re a Mandalorian, Din?” The Jedi asked him.

“I was a foundling, raised by Mandalorians.”

“I knew some Mandalorians once. I knew one very well,” he replied, with a far away, fond look tainted by grief.

“I thought the Jedi and Mandalorians were enemies?”

“Through history, yes, though we occasionally tolerated each other.” The Jedi had a sad smile on his face, copper brows drawn together. Din could see some sweat dewing on his brow, but the Jedi was shivering.

“Come on. You’re sick. Let’s go inside.” The guy also had consumed nothing but water and spotchka for the past two days, which wasn’t healthy. He should probably take better care of Grogu’s Jedi until they had this all figured out. He should take him inside and get him warm and make him eat something.

“I’m not sick, but I do think my head is broken,” the Jedi said, looking up at him.

Breaking the stillness of the desert night, a blaster bolt hit the house above Din’s head. He turned to see three Bounty hunters, a Devronian, a humanoid, and a short being hidden by armor, had come around the side of a distant barn. The Jedi sprung to his feet and started reaching for something at his belt. He didn’t find it.

“Who are they?” he hissed.

“Bounty hunters. They want the kid.”

“Lovely. Give me a blaster or something,” the Jedi asked while dodging bolts. Not yet that trusting, Din just started shooting. The Jedi ran at the big Devaronian hunter while dodging blaster blots and pelted himself through the air, leaping onto his back in a running tackle. He didn’t even have on boots or his armor. Despite their size difference, the Jedi managed to get the Devaronian to the ground where they proceeded to wrestle.

Din was almost shot in a moment of distraction, but pulled his focus back to the other two, the weaker of the bunch. He easily dispatched them and ran over to help the Jedi. The Jedi, however, did not need help. He was standing over his fallen foe, looking nonchalant while brushing the sand off his clothes. “Well that was bracing. Are there more?” He asked, wobbling a little, his face ashen.

“Not at the moment, but more will surely follow.” He reached over and steadied the Jedi with a hand on his shoulder. The Jedi gave him a curious look and a little half smile in return.

“I see how it’s going to be. If the Force was going to transport me to some version of the future, why couldn’t have it picked somewhere peaceful?” the Jedi mused, pushing his hair off his forehead.

“Will you help, then? Help train Grogu?” Din asked. The Jedi, Obi-Wan, had shown that he was very useful, laser sword or not. He would be good for Grogu. He’d have to stay with them for now, seeing as he was injured and had no obvious way to support himself.

“Until I can find a way back, I don’t see that I have another choice,” the Jedi said with a shrug.

“Ok,” Din replied, guiding him back towards the front of the house. That would have to do. He wondered what more strange and sensational things the next few days would bring.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to continue this one! I hope you enjoy the chapter.

The Jedi continued to look dazed and shivery and a touch wobbly after the fight, so Din brought him back inside, procured an old poncho for him to wear, and sat patiently and watched while the Jedi managed to eat two ration bars and drink some water. That seemed to make him sleepy, so Din sent him to rest. It was kind of like taking care of Grogu, but the guy’s day had been terrible, so he’d forgive that.

The Marshall was still at the table, drinking spotchka and watching them with a bemused look on his face, while Grogu remained asleep on the couch. Eventually, Din joined Grogu and dozed himself for an indeterminate amount of time. As soon as Din managed to actually sleep, a massive explosion rocked the house, causing dust and plaster to rain down on his head. Grogu awoke with a vigorous squawk.

Din rocketed up to standing, holding onto the kid and scanning their surroundings for the source of the blast. It seemed to be morning, but all he could outside was dust and smoke. The Marshall came running in through the front door, eyes wide, trying to catch his breath. “I got bad news, Mando. There’s a huge kriffing Imperial cruiser above us that just blasted your ship.”

He made to run towards the door, but the Marshall planted himself in front of him. “They’re looking for the kid, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. We got to get out of here,” Din said, trying to dodge him.

The Marshall put his hands on Din’s shoulders, trying to prevent him from running. “Where are you going to go? A bunch of nasty looking Imps are launching out of that ship. You’ve got to hide.”

The Jedi emerged from the spare bedroom, coppery hair all askew, looking alarmed. “What in the Sith Hells was that?”

“Imperial troopers. You’ve got to hide. Into the root cellar,” The Marshall said, moving a large chest out of the way to reveal a nearly hidden door in the floor. “There’s a tunnel out to the back desert behind the house. It’ll get you out of the town, but I’d wait until nightfall. Come on!” He said, opening the door and gesturing wildly for them to get in.

“Put your boots on this time!” Din hissed at the Jedi, who ran back into the room and grabbed the offending objects. “Is this really the best plan?” Din asked. He didn’t like to hide from his problems.

“The three of us can’t take on a whole army. I’ll make up a story and try to send them on their way,” the Marshall said, on the lookout for any Imperials trying to gain access to the house.

“Can we? Take on an army?” Din asked the Jedi, not entirely sure what he was capable of.

The Jedi shrugged. “Likely not without my ‘saber. Till we know more about the situation, I agree with the plan to hide.”

“I don’t like this plan,” Din muttered, but handed Grogu to the Jedi, who hopped into the cellar. Din followed behind him. The trapdoor closed and they heard the trunk slide back over it. A little bit of light filtered in through the few cracks in the floor that weren’t covered by the trunk, but otherwise they were in darkness. In that little bit of light, he could see the Jedi sitting cross-legged with Grogu perched on one of his thighs. The Jedi had his eyes closed, but seemed alert, focused on the world around them, like he was listening for something that no one else could hear.

Din heard the Imperials enter the house, heard their footsteps echoing above them like heart beats. He hated being helpless like this. If the Imperials found them, it’d be like shooting eels in a crate. He could hear them talking to the Marshall.

“We’re looking for a Mandalorian bounty hunter who’s stolen an asset of ours.”

“Not sure we even know what a Mandalorian is around these parts,” the Marshall drawled.

“You’re the leader of this town, yes?”

“That I am.”

“So why was the Mandalorian’s ship parked outside your town?”

“Don’t rightly know. Had a few too many last night,” the Marshall said, slurring his words.

“We’re going to have a look around. If we find you’ve been lying to us, there will be consequences.”

“Well, look all you want. There’s no Mandalorian here.”

“There’s no Mandalorian here,” the trooper replied, in a strange monotone voice. “No Mandalorian here”, the trooper repeated with more emphasis, but in that alien tone.

“Feel free to look about, but then be on your way or I’ll report you to the New Republic.”

“Be on our way or you’ll report us to the New Republic,” the trooper responded in that same flat voice. Din heard the footsteps leave the house.

Din looked over at the Jedi, who face was pale and pinched tight with concentration. His breathing had quickened as if he had been exerting himself. Grogu was staring up at him, mouth open with excitement, arms flailing at his sides.

“What did you do to that Imperial? Some kind of wizardry?” Din asked once the Jedi’s face went slack.

The Jedi gave him a tired smile, bright blue eyes crinkling at the corner. “Wizardry indeed,” he said, chuckling and running a hand through his hair. “I influenced his mind is all. Gave him a few nudges in the right direction- that being away from us,” the Jedi whispered.

Din was glad his helmet hid his amazement. He’d seen Grogu do some amazing things, but not with the Jedi’s control. Part of him worried that the Jedi would use it on him, but what choice did they have other than to trust each other? They were in the thick of things now. More and more it seemed like he was the right person to teach Grogu. Grogu cooed and cuddled against the Jedi, seemingly in agreement.

With the limited light they had and Din’s night vision, they managed to find some sealed jars of liquid which turned out to be some kind of unidentifiable fruit juice, thankfully not fermented, and a crate of ration bars. They all sat in silence, dozing or doing whatever the Jedi was doing, until nightfall.

“I’m going to go see if it’s clear,” Din announced. “Be back in a few minutes.” The Jedi opened one eye and studied him for a moment, then nodded. “There’s no one nearby, other the owner,” the Jedi informed him.

Din found the narrow, dusty tunnel, following it to its end at another trap door, which he pushed open. He was about 100 meters behind the house. There was little cover, other than a few rusty vaporators. Up in the sky, the lights of the Imperial cruiser flickered. He closed the trap door and returned.

“The ship’s still hovering above. We have to get out of here.”

The Jedi stood up and stretched, setting Grogu on the ground. “Where will we go? We have no means of transportation.”

“We’ll go into the desert. I know some friends who can help us. I have to see if a few things survived the explosion first.”

“The wreckage will be the first place they would look for you. If it’s so important, let me go. They aren’t looking for me,” the Jedi said, reaching out and touching Din’s forearm, looking earnest. “You don’t have to worry about me running away- I have no credits, no ship, no friends. On the plus side, being in your company has been… well, it hasn’t been boring.”

Din felt himself flush within his helmet and was glad for its anonymity. “How is it safer for you? Can you make yourself invisible?” He still had no idea of the limits of the Jedi’s power.

“No, but I can make myself uninteresting,” the Jedi said, with a mischievous smirk that was definitely not uninteresting.

“If you think it will work.” Who would have guessed that he’d be trusting an enemy wizard that he’d just met? He had the deep down sense that the Jedi was trustworthy.

“I do. What do you need?”

“If there’s anything left, there’s a sac with some armor in it and a beskar staff. Any intact weapons or gear that you can carry and looks useful.”

“My light saber wasn’t on the ship, was it?” The Jedi asked, eyes hopeful.

He must mean his laser sword. “No, you didn’t have it on you on Tython.”

The Jedi let out a deep breath. “Pity,” he muttered, climbing out of the tunnel.

An interminable amount of time passed, but the Jedi returned, carrying the burnt sac containing the armor and the staff. “Any trouble? Is it intact? Was it guarded?” Din asked, taking the armor from him. It at least appeared to be intact.

“There were guards and I asked politely,” the Jedi said with a wink, plopping into the tunnel with easy grace. “Sadly, she is nearly flattened.”

“So not fixable.”

“No. Not even by Anakin,” the Jedi mused.

“Who’s Anakin?”

The Jedi’s brows drew together, and for a second, he looked impossibly sad. He wrapped his arms around himself, burying his hands in the sleeves of his poncho. “Oh, my former student. He is… was… Oh blast, I’m not sure… like a brother to me. He could fix almost anything.”

Din’s heart sank, not only for the loss of the Razor Crest, but also for the Jedi. The Jedi had been taken away from his family, his clan. On the Razor Crest he’d called out another name, Cody. They had to be another clan member. He had a responsibility to help the Jedi. He couldn’t leave him clanless and out of his own time. He also had no idea how he was going to do that seeing as he had no ship, no gear. All he could do was keep moving forward.

“We should go,” Din said, feeling resolute.

“Out into the desert? At night? Where are we going?” The Jedi asked, rubbing at his beard in thought.

“We need to get to Mos Eisley. I have some friends who could help.”

“Where will we find these friends? Friends that live out in the wilds?”

“They’ll find us. We have to get out of Mos Pelgo before they find us or hurt the townsfolk for helping us.”

“It seems there’s no other choice. Lead the way, my friend,” the Jedi said, with a little two finger salute.

They left the cellar and walked till morning, with starlight and moonlight and Din’s night vision to guide them. They walked until the first sun started to rise and the small desert creatures started to scurry back into their burrows. Grogu mostly slept in his sling. Din carried the armor and Grogu and the Jedi carried their limited supplies and the staff. The sand was rocky and uneven, dunes intermixed with plateaus and ridges, which made for slow going. As they walked, the Jedi seemed to be lost in thought, though after a while he started to talk.

“When will your friends find us?” He asked, taking off his poncho and tying it over his head like a hood.

The movements of the Tuskens were hard to predict. “When they want to.”

“That’s cryptic,” the Jedi snarked.

Din shrugged. “They’re hard to predict. There’s a meeting spot around here, I think. Maybe a few ridges over.”

The Jedi nodded, seemingly content with that answer. “Sorry for the abrupt change in subject, but am I dead? My counterpart I mean? I’d hate to run into myself. I suppose I would be quite old.”

This was a weird but necessary conversation, one Din was not mentally prepared for, but then again, who was? This was not an everyday situation. “Yes. You died helping the Rebellion. I don’t know much about it. The lady Jedi probably would know.”

The Jedi stopped walking and turned towards him, grabbing his shoulder, eyes blazing. “The Lady Jedi? There’s another Jedi? What was her name?”

“Ahsoka Tano- I met her on Corvus. I asked her to train Grogu, but she said she couldn’t. She told me to go to Tython to have Grogu call for another Jedi. Do you know her?”

The Jedi stumbled over a depression in the sand and almost fell to his knees, and Din reached out to steady him. “I… I knew her very well. She was still young, a child really. I… I was her teacher of sorts.”

“She is a wise and cunning warrior. You should be proud.”

The Jedi stared off into the horizon, like she might possibly appear. “Where is she? She could help me, help me find out what’s going on. I’ve never heard of this Stone on Tython. Maybe she knows a way to send me back?”

Din wanted him to train Grogu, not go back, but he wouldn’t force the Jedi to stay. “Maybe. I don’t know how to find her again. I don’t know where she was going after Corvus.”

“I see,” the Jedi said, wiping sand and dust off his face with his sleeve.

On the far side of the ridge, Din spied a Tusken sentry. He tried to give a gesture of greeting and handed Grogu to the Jedi. “Sit down and wait in the shade while I talk to them.” The Jedi gave him a wary look but agreed.

Din walked over towards the sentry, and several other Tuskens appeared, as they usually did. Thankfully, it was the same clan that had helped take down the krayt. The greeted him joyfully, gesturing with their Gaderffii sticks. He explained their situation as best as possible, that they needed assistance getting to Mos Eisley. The Tuskens asked that they follow them to their camp tonight to rest, and they’d get the great-krayt-slayer outfitted in the morning. Thankfully, the killing of the ancient krayt was still clear in their minds.

Din went back to retrieve his two charges and found them engaged in that kind of silent conversation they’d had the other day. “Come on, you two. Stay close,” he told the Jedi, “they don’t like outsiders.” He may have told the Tuskens that the Jedi was his potential mate and that Grogu was their adopted child. They’d be less hostile that way, and the Jedi didn’t have to know.

“They look charming,” the Jedi whispered, looking apprehensive as the surrounding Tuskens grunted at him. He plastered a nervous smile on his face and shook his head in acknowledgement.

“They’re good people. They’ve lived on these lands for thousands of years.”

“I’m sure they are,” the Jedi muttered. “I just hope I don’t anger them.”

“Then stick by me and take what they offer you. Don’t look down at anything. They don’t have much, but they’re sharing it with us.”

“I’m grateful. And I’m glad you can communicate with them.”

“It’s useful. What were you talking to Grogu about?”

“Oh, this and that. It’s not so much talking as it is a sharing of thoughts. He doesn’t always think in words. I was trying to teach him some temperature regulation, but he’s rather young for that.”

Was there no end to his wizardry? “You can regulate your temperature?”

“Yes, otherwise I swear I’d have heat stroke by now. It does take energy though, like anything. I can’t do it forever,” the Jedi mused and pointed at his armor. “How are you still going in all that?”

“Just used to it.” He couldn’t deny that he was sweating profusely, but he’d survive.

“You’re a stronger man than me, Din,” the Jedi said, his smile engaging. Din felt himself flush, in a way that had nothing to do with the heat.

It took them the rest of the day to reach the camp. They were given a tent for the night, and after a dinner of krayt jerky, flat bread, and the milk of black melons, Din settled Grogu to sleep. He took the Jedi and led him to the fire where the Tuskens sat, drinking fermented bantha’s milk and telling stories in the dimming light. It was a subdued affair for the Tuskens. They seemed a bit wary of the outsiders but not hostile. The young ones regarded them with curiosity.

As the fire burned, the Jedi sat beside him in his usual cross-legged position, studying Din with his curious, light-colored eyes that were made magical by the firelight reflecting off them. That same light turned his hair into copper fire. At that moment, he seemed like something out of a children’s story, something rare and beautiful.

“We’ve been on this strange adventure together, and I don’t even know if you’re human? I guess I assumed you were,” the Jedi murmured and reached over and took Din’s hand, pulling back his glove a little to reveal the paler skin of his inner wrist, lined with green veins.

Din’s first reaction was to pull away, but he found himself allowing the Jedi’s inspection of his skin. He liked the pensive look on the Jedi’s face and the feel of him tenderly holding his hand. Din couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a caring touch from another adult.

“I see that you are,” the Jedi murmured, gently pulling the glove back into position.

“Don’t you ever take that off?” the Jedi asked, pointing at his helmet.

“It is not the way,” Din said as he pulled his hand away, with more harshness than he intended. The Jedi’s brows flew up and he looked taken aback. He scooted away just a little, to Din’s disappointment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any offense,” the Jedi soothed.

“You didn’t offend me,” Din said, trying to soften his voice.

“That’s good. I’m kind of stuck with you,” the Jedi said with a nervous chuckle.

Din wasn’t sure how to reply, so he sat in silence. He was glad the Jedi was with them. The Jedi. He should call him Obi-Wan, as that was his name, but giving him a name made him real, a real person, a real responsibility just like Grogu, not some nameless enemy wizard. He was real, and he was intriguing, and he seemed kind.

As Din watched the fire burn to embers, his thoughts were distracted by a heavy weight against his shoulder. The Jedi, Obi-Wan, was slumped against him. By his breathing, Din could tell he was asleep. It couldn’t be comfortable for him, but Din didn’t push him away. Something inside him softened and warmed, melting a little. The Jedi trusted him, and he felt strangely reassured. They could get through this, the loss of a ship, the loss of income, being hunted by Imperials, Grogu’s training. They could get through this with a little bit of luck, and maybe their Obi-Wan was that luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I'd love to know what you think!
> 
> Thanks as always to picavenger14 who beta reads and looks up stuff for me XD!!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I was nervous about writing Din and in the Mandalorian fandom for some reason and have been hesitant and anxious to post this.
> 
> I might write more in the future if I feel up to it. 
> 
> I'd love it if you let me know what you think!
> 
> Thanks to picavenger14, who introduced me to the concept.!


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